


only go backwards

by languageofthebirds



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: A little fluff to soothe the soul too, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blowjobs, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, They fight they make up they fuck, They're just a little dumb sometimes, handjobs, they're in LOVE your honour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/languageofthebirds/pseuds/languageofthebirds
Summary: “What’s my problem? That’s rich, college boy.” He set the coffee pot down on the counter none too lightly and turned to face David again. He could feel the hurt press back up inside him, suddenly, violently, and he couldn’t help himself. Being defensive was easier for him than vulnerability. He hated putting the soft spots of himself on display.
Relationships: Joseph Liebgott/David Kenyon Webster
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	only go backwards

**Author's Note:**

> See end notes for translations.  
> Title comes from lyrics from "We Only Go Backwards" by Tame Impala. I highly recommend the Arctic Monkeys version of the song for the vibes.  
> HUGE thank you to Lara, aka churchkey here on AO3 and on Tumblr. She very kindly offered to beta read this monster for me, and I am eternally grateful. Props to her for giving me the idea for the big surprise, and shout-out to everyone else in the BOB discord that had nothing but kind words for me when I needed some encouragement <3  
> This was originally supposed to be a very short and quick PWP... 10k words later and here we are. Hope y'all enjoy it :)

The apartment was quiet. Moonlight filtered through the glass of the balcony doors and provided some light – _that’s right, full moon tonight,_ David thought idly to himself as he sat on the couch, partially bathed in the glow. He turned his face to peek out the doors – the moon was so big it seemed it wouldn’t be such a far stretch to pluck it right out of the sky with his hands. There were no stars visible, which was one downside to living in the city, but the sight of the skyline and various buildings lit up in the night nearly made up for it.

He’d thought about sitting outside on the balcony, maybe lighting a smoke, but the weather was turning cooler and he didn’t feel like getting up and searching for a pack of smokes. David had turned off the TV a while ago; there was nothing of interest on this late at night, and he hadn’t really been watching it anyways. He’d just wanted a distraction, but the droning background noise to his thoughts proved strangely grating to his ears. Silence seemed the better option after all; as silent as it could be, anyways, with sounds of distant sirens and not so distant cars passing by every so often, even in the dead of night. David rather found those types of sounds more comforting than not these days, however. In a fit of loneliness, it reminded him there were other people out there beyond the apartment’s walls, living their lives, some of them just like him. _The city never sleeps,_ he mused to himself. He supposed sitting alone with his thoughts wasn’t all bad. He’d at least be able to sort through some of the feelings gnawing at him, although they were just an ugly reminder of what had transpired earlier, which was something he rather didn’t want to think about at the moment.

He brought his feet up off the floor and curled deeper into the cushions, wrapping his arms around his knees and sighing softly, pressing his head into the back of the couch and closing his eyes. He felt the slightest headache coming on and his throat still burned from when he’d let himself cry for a few minutes. He wondered when Joe would be back. He’d stormed out hours ago in a fit of rage. Their latest argument started over the dinner plans David had made for them for tomorrow of all things, and then quickly progressed from that to the topic of Joe’s job, and then rent and bills, and _finally,_ after circling around it for two weeks, it all devolved into a screaming match about David’s parents. Their arguments these days always seemed to stem from money and lack thereof, and privilege and lack thereof, and Joe’s goddamn pride. They were different people, with different backgrounds, and David’s background always had Joe grinding his teeth. David could understand why; it made even him uncomfortable at times, to be reminded of his upbringing, stiff and cold with extravagant displays of wealth, and _Jesus_ , his parents…

Joe ran hotter than not these days; he’d been harbouring a nasty temper ever since they’d had dinner with David’s parents two weeks ago in his childhood home. His mother had insisted on hosting them; she’d hired a personal chef for the evening and everything, and when she had texted David to ask if anything needed to be kosher for Joe, he almost cancelled. Joe found it hilarious, of all things, but David couldn’t help the feeling of suspicion that grew. Very rarely did his parents’ dinner invitations extend to Joe as well, even after all this time; and usually they met in restaurants, as sort of a neutral ground. David had every right to feel suspicious, too - dinner had been, to put it lightly, a bit of a disaster.

It was the most uncomfortable night of his life, and the only reason he didn’t leave before the second course of dinner could be served was because of Joe’s steady hand on his thigh under the table. Joe kept his cool throughout the uncomfortable evening, and David had no idea how. It was to the point where David was angry on behalf of Joe the whole night. His parents looked down on Joe, and it was evident. The looks Judith and David Sr. would share as they asked Joe questions and made pointed comments on his upbringing and background made his blood boil. After Joe had excused himself to the washroom during dessert, David’s mother had all but pounced on him, and insinuated that he was only dating a ‘ _street rat’_ like Joe as an act of rebellion against them. 

_‘You’re wasting your life, David. It’s been three years. You’re far too old for childish games like this. It’s time to settle down with someone respectable,”_ she had said to him. “ _He won’t be able to support you both. You’ll come to regret this eventually.”_

His father had sat stone faced beside her, nodding solemnly. He had hardly been able to believe his ears, and a voice in the back of his mind chimed in unhelpfully with _I knew it._ Of course the promise of family dinner was too good to be true. A small part of him had secretly hoped his parents had finally come around, but that was clearly asking too much. David had finally left in a fit of rage immediately after his mother had tried to set him up with the son of one of his father’s colleagues, and he took Joe with him, who was conveniently just on his way back to the dining room. If, in spite, he’d parked by the fountain in the circular driveway on the way out and sucked Joe off in the back seat before leaving for good, that was between them.

While Joe was seemingly unaffected during the dinner, ever since they made it home he’d been distant. He picked up extra shifts at his cousin’s barber shop and he worked longer hours than usual driving for Lyft. He left early in the morning and didn’t come home until later in the evening, and he was even more waspish than usual. David would try and needle him into talking about what was wrong, but Joe always changed the subject faster than David could keep up, or just kiss him until he forgot to keep pressing. Joe was never one for words. Not ones that would ever provide a hint at what was going on inside his head, anyways.

David couldn’t figure it out – he was obviously the most uncomfortable one at dinner, and his parents never said anything outright untoward to Joe. Just behind his back _._ Joe had been the one to comfort David, before they had entered his parent’s house, when he’d offered a last chance to back out, telling him ‘ _You think I give a shit what your parents think of me?’_ with a wry grin. So what had gotten his bottoms in a twist from dinner to the next day? He didn’t think he’d done anything to warrant Joe being pissed at him, either; usually David knew pretty quick if he had because he’d be hearing Joe bitch about it nonstop right after. 

A loud exhaust bang from the street below startled David. It didn’t sound like Joe’s old car. David didn’t usually stay up waiting for Joe. He usually fell into bed out of exhaustion, and Joe always ended up joining him in his own time. This felt a little different, though. The jabs traded during the argument were deeper, harsher, viciously aimed directly at the centre of all of David’s soft spots, which Joe usually avoided. David was generally used to Joe’s barbs and the fact that Joe spit and shook like an angry wet cat when something was out of sorts, but not like that. They’d gotten past the venomous hatred shit a long time ago, and usually it never much _hurt_ like the things Joe had said to him tonight. The theatrics were just Joe’s way, and generally they were due to Joe’s infuriating habit of bottling his feelings up until they were ready to bust. Usually, it ended up being small inconveniences that set him on the warpath, too. The straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. He wasn’t a talker like David, and he struggled putting names to feelings and speaking it out loud. David could usually suffer through some yelling to get to the root of it. And David was getting better all the time at not rising to the bait and yelling back; what really got Joe going was David stepping up to bat – if David managed to stay calm and mostly ignore Joe’s tantrums, the wind left Joe’s sails pretty quickly and then David could usually weasel a real conversation out of Joe about what was going on. 

The thing about Joe was that he always came back, eventually. He’d get angry, he’d storm out and walk or drive away to wherever he went when he was pissed, but after a while of stewing he always came back. The longest he’d ever been gone was two and a half hours, and that was after a particularly nasty fight. David can’t even remember what it was about, that time, but Joe came back. They always made up in their own way (and then made out more often than not).

Joe rarely apologized; he was the kind of guy to quietly move past whatever transgressions transpired and expect you to do the same. Well, maybe that wasn’t quite right; David supposed Joe’s apologies came in actions – a nose pressed to the back of David’s neck when he crawls into their bed late at night, arms pulling him close into a warm hold, or pressing coffee into David’s hands the next morning, made just the way he likes, or resting his hand on the back of David’s neck, warm and grounding as he uses the hold to tip his head towards him and press a kiss to his temple before leaving for work. Joe never said he was sorry but David always got the message just the same anyways. It was in his eyes, softened gaze and softened hands directed towards David, always, just for him. 

Their fight started around 9:00. It was about an hour after Joe got home; they had a late dinner, they were relaxing, and then David brought up the dinner reservation he’d made. He’d just wanted to treat Joe. He’d saved up some money so he could take him to a fancy restaurant he kept hearing his classmates talk about for a Friday night date night. Joe had been working so hard the last while, he deserved it. David figured a dinner that was _actually_ nice _,_ just the two of them, might start to make up for his parents.

There was also the matter of the surprise he had planned for Joe during dinner. Tentatively planned, anyways. He’d been thinking about it nonstop since seeing his parents - and wasn’t that ironic. He’d made the purchase on near impulse, three days after the dinner from hell, as he’d dubbed it in his mind. He had been walking from the library to a new coffee shop that opened a couple blocks away – he’d needed the air and time to clear his head, and when his eyes were drawn to a quaint little storefront window with _it_ on display, it was like he was possessed. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it before.

His mother’s words rang in his ears, not the ones she’d want to stick, but the ones that did – _three years._ Had it really been that long already? It felt like just yesterday he’d met Joe - stumbled into him, rather. Joe was sitting crouched on the curb outside a bar David’s friend Skinny was dragging him to, holding a crumpled napkin against his bloody nose and running his thumb over the edge of his split lip. Joe had snapped at him for not watching where he was going, puffing out his chest like he was ready for another fight, but Skinny stepped in when he heard the altercation and then howled with laughter – apparently he knew Joe, and Joe was a part of the group of buddies Skinny was dragging David out to meet. It took them a while to tolerate each other, and even longer to like each other, but eventually they figured things out; well enough to be together for three years, anyways.

It made him nervous as hell, but it also felt right. He saw himself being with Joe for three more years, for thirteen years, for thirty years. He figured he’d plan a nice evening for the both of them, they’d have a good time at the very least, and if he really got cold feet and couldn’t follow through in the moment, then Joe would be none the wiser. He could save it. They had all the time in the world. Or they _did..._

When David brought the plans he’d made up, Joe was angry instead of happy and things had evolved from there. He was almost afraid that somehow Joe knew, and didn’t want anything to do with it, but that was impossible. There was no way Joe could know - he’d hid it so carefully, in his book bag full of ‘expensive paperweights’ that Joe never touched or even looked at. He hadn’t told anyone, either - he thought about mentioning it to Skinny, but he was afraid of word getting out to their friends and then inevitably back to Joe. He loved them all dearly, but he would trust very few of them with a secret he really wanted kept secret. Besides, he wasn’t even sure he would have the nerve to actually do it. And now, after their argument, he wasn’t sure he’d get the chance for dinner at all, let alone _that._

It was now nearing 2 in the morning, and David didn’t want to, but he was starting to think maybe Joe _wouldn’t_ come back this time. That it’d be a few days before he would see the other man again, instead of just hours. He’d never been gone this long before. David was _worried_. He wondered if he should risk Joe’s ire and call him, or text him at least. He wondered if he’d even get a response.

As David eyed his phone, sitting on the coffee table in front of him, he heard the sound of the lock turning. He couldn’t see that great in the dark, and the moon’s beams fell short of the door, but Joe’s figure still cut a miserable, stooped sight as he turned to close the door behind him. The tension surrounding Joe was so thick David felt he would choke on it if he sat there much longer. He watched as Joe turned back into the room, toed off his shoes, and shrugged his coat off and tossed it at the hanger (a habit David was still trying to break him out of – he always missed and left David grumbling as he plucked the jacket up off the floor every day after him. It had, unsurprisingly, been the source of an argument a long time ago, but it was still something that Joe did anyways to get a small rise out of him. The traitorous smile that curled David’s lips at the sight of Joe’s devilish little smirk every time he did it, David figured, was not a very convincing threat to get him to knock it off. He also remembered the particularly spectacular sex that came out of that argument, and figured that didn’t help his case either).

As if sensing his gaze, Joe’s eyes trailed to the couch and fixed on David. “Hey.”

“Hey?” David parroted, a bit incredulous. A few hours beforehand Joe had been screaming at him, then he disappeared for five long hours, and all he could settle on after finally coming back was a meek ‘ _hey’_? David wished he could see the expression on Joe’s face, but it was shadowed in the dark. He wished he could have a clear read on Joe in the moment. He suddenly felt wrong footed, and he didn’t think he was the only one.

Joe nodded, slowly, more to himself than anything, letting his eyes linger on David’s form for a second. Thanks to the small amount of moonlight from the balcony, Joe could make out David’s figure, curled up on the couch in the way he was wont to do when something was bothering him. He wore a puzzled expression at Joe’s greeting, brows furrowed, teeth worrying his bottom lip. Joe wondered if he was expecting more yelling.

Joe felt suddenly very guilty, and as usual, he didn’t know what the hell else to say or how to even say it. He made a calculated retreat to the kitchen, as an excuse to do something, to busy himself, to distract from the well of emotion rising in his chest and wrapping around his throat. He flicked the light on and moved towards the counter. Maybe he’d make some coffee. There was no way he’d sleep through the rest of the night, and he figured he’d be taking the couch anyways, if David stuck around. No question he was in the doghouse. It was a comfy enough couch for the most part, he supposed, but it was too short for Joe when he laid out lengthwise on it. His head and feet hung off either end, and the way he had to contort himself to fit on it wasn’t very comfortable.

“Joe?” David ventured, moving into the kitchen as well. He leaned back against the island, directly behind Joe, only maybe three feet separating them but feeling like it may as well have been miles. Joe’s shoulders were shrugged up near his ears and he was one long line of tension. He stood in front of the coffee pot, as if he were going to make some, but he hadn’t moved since he stopped there.

“You’re still up,” Joe said lamely, for lack of anything better. He turned around, not expecting David to have moved so close to him. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the other man in the eyes, so he cast his gaze downwards towards David’s bare feet. He wondered if the curl in David’s toes was intentional, if the tiles were cool against his feet in a way Joe didn’t feel with his own sock feet. He wanted to think about anything else, _be_ anywhere else. He was always pushing, always looking to get a rise out of David, but he pushed too far and he couldn’t even get David to yell back this time. Just had to watch David’s face fall further and further, his goddamn Bambi eyes getting wet around the edges; he bypassed ‘get David angry’ entirely and crashed directly into ‘make him hurt’ territory. Fuck, was he pathetic. He wondered how David was still here, how he hadn’t driven him off already. It was only a matter of time. By t _omorrow, probably,_ a traitorous voice whispered in his head. Now tonight was more likely. 

“I couldn’t really sleep. I wasn’t really sure… well I wasn’t really sure you were coming back tonight, to be honest,” David admitted. Cards on the table. He wanted to snipe some remark about Joe’s powers of observation, as Joe probably would in his shoes, but he didn’t want to risk another argument. The best way to deal with the conversation after the fight was to cut right to the chase, David had learned. Joe always got self conscious about the way so many words came so easily to David, how he could express himself so freely. “I was worried.”

“Yeah, well…” Joe shrugged in lieu of words. The truth was, he couldn’t stand leaving David after a fight. Usually by the time he got to the car he was itching to turn around and go back up, but he always gave himself the space to cool off anyways, to get his thoughts in order so he didn’t explode all over again. The cowardly part of him liked to wait until he was sure David would be asleep before he came back. It was always so much easier to slip into their bed and press his lips against David’s neck in apology rather than look him in the eyes right after a fight. He was ready to come back hours ago, but this time he thought maybe David wouldn’t even be there when he got back. The thought gripped him so intensely that he sat in his car, frozen, until he couldn’t take not knowing any longer.

David just watched him, unwavering, and didn’t say anything for a while. Joe didn’t know what to make of the silence, and David looked like maybe he didn’t quite know what to think either. After a few minutes of nothing but quiet, he seemed to find it.

“Are we going to talk about this, Joe?” David looked tired.

“Talk about what, princess?” Playing stupid wasn’t the best option, but Joe thought maybe he could at least drag out the inevitable. It had already been two weeks, what was a couple minutes longer? David waited up for him, even. He turned back around and grabbed the coffee pot, moving to the sink and filling it with water. The thought of coffee turned his stomach at the moment, but it gave him something to do with his hands. Something to focus his attention on so he didn’t totally fracture under David’s attention.

“Don’t,” David said. “Not this time, Joe. Something’s been bothering you ever since we saw my parents. What’s your problem?”

“What’s _my_ problem? That’s rich, college boy.” He set the coffee pot down on the counter none too lightly and turned to face David again. He could feel the hurt press back up inside him, suddenly, violently, and he couldn’t help himself. Being defensive was easier for him than vulnerability. He hated putting the soft spots of himself on display.

David’s face scrunched in confusion and frustration. He bristled some, at ‘ _college boy’_. Joe never called him that unless he was really pissed and aiming to hurt - it was what he'd used to call him, when they'd first met, to antagonize him and work him up. It was always following something sharp and hurtful, digging at David's insecurities. It never failed to get David's back up in response.

David didn’t feel up to talking in circles around the point Joe was trying to make and wouldn’t outright say, but he didn’t have much choice if he wanted to get somewhere. He was at Joe’s mercy here. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you, obviously. Am I going too fast for you?”

“Joe, please.”

“You’re the one who’s got a fucking problem, Web. Don’t you think it’s about time you dealt with it? Put it out of its fucking misery? Why wait?”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’s my problem, Joe? Tell me all about it,” David said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. What the hell was Joe talking about?

“You’re the smart one here, Web. Your parents seem to get it just fine.”

 _My parents?_ David was more confused than ever at this point. What the hell was Joe talking about? There wasn’t a moment Joe spent alone with his parents, nothing they said to him that he hadn’t heard. The gears turned in David’s head, until he felt his stomach drop. _Unless_ … Joe had been so conveniently poised right by the door as David stormed out from his parents little intervention. But he never said anything…?

“Oh, come on, when are you gonna wise up Web? I figured you’d realize by now they were right. You just gonna keep parading me around, your little lost cause? How long is that gonna last? Have you even been listening to me? I’m a fucking asshole. It’s time for you to find someone _respectable._ Go find a lawyer or something to fuck and leave me in the streets where you found me.” 

And there was the sore spot. The live wire that had been sparking in Joe’s chest since dinner with David’s parents. He had excused himself to the washroom, and on the way back he’d paused outside the dining room doors when he’d heard David’s parents lecturing him. He hadn’t ever deluded himself; he knew that he and David were different. He took the comments that David’s parents made about him and his upbringing on the nose; he was loved, deeply, by his family and that was all he ever needed. Extravagance never suited him anyways, and that was fine by him. It didn’t bother him that he didn’t fit in in David’s parent’s mansion, or their work galas, or the upscale seven course restaurants they regularly dined at. And it wasn’t even the insinuation that David was using him as some kind of rebellion – Joe knew David would never be able to do anything like that to anyone.

It was the fact that David _was_ too good for someone like Joe. His parents sure hit that nail on the head. They saw right through Joe’s façade and into the grimy parts of him, looking down on him because of the way he dirtied up their precious son, too. Any day now David would wise up to that fact and leave Joe behind. It scared him, more than he ever cared to admit. Each argument, each time he stormed out giving David the chance to leave quietly, and then sitting in his damn car with his heart in his throat wondering _will it be this time? Has he figured it out yet? Has he had enough?_

This whole mess, after all, was because of Joe. David leaving him was the scariest thought he’d ever had, and yet it started to become something inevitable in his mind. He’d figured he’d speed up the inevitable and just act like the person he really was – contrary, brash, a mean son of a bitch, and get Web to open his eyes and see it too. Maybe he’d leave before any more of Joe’s traitorous heart could attach itself to David. _And who was he kidding there? It was too late to stop that._ He’d lay the world down at David’s feet if only he asked – and wasn’t that an equally terrifying thought?

David felt horror creep over him. Joe _had_ heard his parents. He cursed Judith and David Sr. quietly. He knew that dinner with them couldn’t be taken at face value. They always had ulterior motives, they were always _concerned_ about him, but only because he wasn’t the perfect son they wanted who followed along with their song and dance, no questions asked. All because he didn’t live his life on their terms, but his own. He figured they resented Joe mostly because Joe was the one that really showed him he could do something like that, that he could be more than the person his parents wanted him to be; that he could be himself. “Jesus, Joe. That’s not…” The exchange from that night replayed in his head. 

“ _And what would you like for me to come home with next, mother? A lawyer?”_ He remembered the way she rolled right over his sarcasm; “ _Oh darling, that would be so nice. Your father’s colleague, he has a son who’s... gay. His name is James. He’s really an upstanding young man, I could put you in touch…”_

“Just get it over with. Say you’re gonna leave and do it. Don’t need to say anything else. Definitely don’t need some fancy fucking dinner to let me down gently or whatever, either.” Joe wondered if that wasn’t the worst part of it all. That had to be the reason David sprung those plans on him so last minute - he’d heard about the restaurant that David mentioned, too. It was a highbrow place, suited for a couple like David’s parents, not for them. Joe figured that’s why he chose it - it was the perfect place to highlight their differences and let Joe know he’d finally had enough. 

“What?” David gaped at him. “How could you think-”

Joe didn’t let him finish. “Maybe you should call James. I’m sure he’d be happy to roll up in his fucking Rolls Royce or whatever and sweep you out of the ghetto.” Joe’s jaw clenched, and his hands curled into tight fists before he loosened them. He couldn’t help but let the words slip. It left a sour taste in his mouth, and had been needling at him since the next morning after the dinner with David’s parents. He wasn’t inclined to take anything they said too seriously, but then... 

Then he’d been picking up their clothes off the bedroom floor to do laundry two days later, and when he emptied David’s suit jacket pocket, he’d found the business card. In Judith Webster’s neat handwriting was the name and number for who he assumed was the nice lawyer Judith had mentioned to David. David had kept the card. He’d tried not to think about what that meant, but he couldn’t help himself. It made everything all the more real. So David really would leave him, then, and Joe would have to live with the fact that he not only drove him out of his life, but into someone else’s arms. He wasn’t sure what hurt more. 

He couldn’t take it, couldn’t stay there any longer. His heart was ready to spill out of his chest and fall at David’s feet on the floor. He went to move past David, to get out of the kitchen at the very least, to be anywhere but there. At that moment he hated David’s parents, he hated the idea of James, he hated _David_ \- for stringing him along and acting so good at pretending to care when he was ready to end it. Most of all he hated himself, for being so affected by it, for caring so deeply. 

David stopped him with a gentle hand around the elbow, loose enough that Joe could break away if he really wanted to. “I’m not going anywhere, Joe. Just hang on. My parents… Jesus. My parents are the fucking assholes. They don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t know me, and they’ve never cared to. They don’t know you, and they sure as hell don’t know _us._ I love you, _liebling_. You’re the one who said to hell with what they think, aren’t you? Who gives a shit?”

Joe stilled, closing his eyes. David’s hand was scorching on his arm. He could feel his heart in his throat. “Maybe I give a shit. What does James think?” It was a low blow, but he couldn’t help the words from falling from his lips.

“Since when did –“

“Since you kept the card. I saw it. In your jacket pocket. You kept his number.” Joe opened his eyes and looked at David then. David’s face was nearly unreadable, which scared Joe more than he’d like to admit. He was usually an open book. “I mean, I get it. You’d be better off anyways. A nice shiny lawyer, smart and rich. It’s what you deserve.”

“Fuck that. That’s bullshit. I don’t need a fucking lawyer, I just need you. Listen, Joe-”

Joe was on a roll. He couldn’t stop now, even if he wanted to. The words just kept welling up and spilling over, pent up from the last two weeks. “Come on, Web, cut the shit. You were ready to break up with me. You planned it all out and everything. I mean, I should be touched, really, I’m sure you were planning on picking up the cheque after you broke the news, very kind of you. You know, I get it-” 

“I wasn’t going to break up with you. I was-” 

“I mean, fuck, I can’t get anything right, can I? Look at me. These last two weeks you’ve been miserable, just because I’ve been miserable. I can’t even pretend to be happy that my boyfriend booked a dinner reservation and wanted to take me on a date. Can’t just keep my mouth shut and take what's coming.”

David’s hand tightened on Joe’s elbow, and then he brought his other hand up to mirror his grip on Joe’s other arm. He looked for a moment like he was thinking about giving Joe a shake, but he didn’t. Joe kept going before David could open his mouth again. 

“Jesus fuck I just have to ruin everything. I can’t – You don’t - You’d be happier without me. I’m just a fucking dick. I’m a piece of shit, David, why can’t you-“ Joe hadn’t realized how out of breath he was. He felt hot everywhere, like he was burning up, like David’s hands on his elbows lit him on fire and now it was spreading. He could feel sweat bead at his temples, and a lump formed in his throat. He took a sharp breath in for air, feeling his heart pound in his chest. 

David had never seen Joe like this before. He couldn’t even get a word in edgewise to calm him down. He didn’t know what else to do, and moved on near instinct - he pulled Joe into a fierce hug, one arm wrapping around Joe’s shoulders, and the other moving so he could rest his hand on the back of Joe’s neck. Joe did that to him sometimes, resting a heavy, comforting hand on the back of his neck when he was stressed; it was grounding, and always managed to settle a restless David. He figured he could return the favour, at the very least.

Joe struggled under his arms for a moment, resisting, but it didn’t last long; he took another deep breath, and then seemed to melt under his hand suddenly, when David gave the nape of his neck a gentle squeeze. His fingers fisted into David’s shirt as a bit off sob escaped his lips. Rarely did David ever see Joe cry. _Never,_ if he thought about it. Joe usually kept his emotions close to his chest, whereas David’s heart was generally worn on his sleeve, but here Joe was now, letting them seep out. Letting David see him like this.

“Listen, _Josef_ , please,” David started, knowing what he was about to say next would probably be the most important thing he’d ever said in their relationship. “I didn’t know you heard what my parents said, and I’m sorry that you had to. They were out of line, and they had no right to say those things. I brought you there because I love you, and I’m proud of you, and I wanted to show them that I was happy. God, I’m so happy. _With you._ If they can’t understand that, it’s their problem. My mother slipped that card into my pocket before I left, and I was so fucking pissed at them, I forgot all about it. The things they said about you… I wanted to flip those stupid little fruity puddings into their laps. I didn’t keep it on purpose. I was never going to call that guy. Why would I, when I have you?” 

David pulled away from the hug slightly, leaving one hand on the back of Joe’s neck, and bringing the other to his cheek, gently thumbing away some of the tears there. “They don’t see what I do. I’m so goddamn lucky, Joe. You’re incredible. You’re smart, and hardworking, and you make me better. You have such a big heart, as much as you play up the tough guy act…” David could feel his own tears welling up in response. _How did Joe not already know?_ “I wouldn’t leave you for anything. Not anything. I was never planning on breaking up with you. I… _Dein ist mein ganzes Herz_. Only yours. I love you.”

He knew if nothing else, that might help settle Joe. German had been the one thing they’d had in common in the beginning; Joe had grown up speaking it, thanks to his immigrant grandparents, and David’s parents insisted he learn another language, though they didn’t care much about which one. They’d had a gardener, when David was young, who spoke some German, and it just stuck from there. It was quite the coincidence when they realized they both spoke it - but it served as the beginning of something to bond over. At first, they used it to converse in front of their friends sometimes as a big joke, but slowly it had evolved into something more as their relationship had progressed. He knew Joe found comfort in the language, and David loved the idea that it was like something just for them, another way to express themselves, to understand and be understood in return. 

Joe leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together. “David,” he said, finally, letting the weight of it hang in the air. Very rarely did Joe ever call him David. It was for quiet moments, just the two of them, laced with meaning. His eyes were squeezed shut. “ _Ich liebe dich am leidenschaftlichsten_ ,” he murmured in return. David paused for a moment, the translation turning in his head before a grin split his lips. 

“Really? You said you weren’t listening when I –“ He started, but Joe cut him off with a kiss. He pushed David gently by the hips until he was trapped between the island counter and his chest. He pulled his lips away and gave David a long, searching look.

“I always listen,” Joe admitted after a quiet beat, seemingly finding whatever he was looking for on David’s face. “Even when the books you read are boring and pretentious as fuck. I mean, Holden Caulfield? What a piece of work. _Jesus_. But Mr. Darcy wasn’t so bad, I guess. More interesting anyways.”

David felt, suddenly, like laughing. Or shouting; he couldn’t quite decide at that moment. He felt… _light,_ in a way he never had before. If it weren’t for Joe’s hands still on his hips, he might have floated away. Knowing that Joe listened to everything he said, quietly, even when he was ranting about his interests and the latest books he’d read. All the trouble Joe gave him about it, all the ribbing, the _what? I’m not listening, I don’t care,_ the times he made a show of turning the volume up on the tv, or slipping his headphones on while playing a game. All the noncommittal, disinterested _hmm_ ’s and _oh?’s_ but he _was_ listening. _Bastard._ That admission was the closest thing to an apology David had ever heard from Joe, and he treasured it.

“Aw jeez, don’t you cry,” Joe said, pressing a thumb gently over the skin at the corner of David’s eye, where some unshed tears must have been lingering. “I’ll never listen to you again, I mean it. I promise, even.”

David couldn’t help but smile, and a laugh escaped his throat. “Tell me more about how interesting you find Mr. Darcy, Joe. Really, don’t hold back.” 

“Don’t push it, jackass. I’m serious. Never again,” Joe said solemnly, but the soft upturn of his lips betrayed him. 

As far as David was concerned, Joe would never have to listen to him again, not a single word, and that would be okay with him, because knowing Joe _had_ been, the whole time, was enough. And then, somehow, Joe kept surprising him, and David thought he really might start blubbering at this rate, because Joe opened his mouth again, and said “I’m sorry,” so quiet David wasn’t sure at first if he’d heard him at all. Those were rarely words that came from Joe; it was how David knew he really meant it.

“S’alright. Me too. Now kiss me again,” David demanded, voice a bit thick. He didn’t think he could handle the way Joe was looking at him much longer, eyes so serious, like he was going to make another quiet admission that would rock David to the core. He fisted his hands into Joe’s shirt and gave it a tug. A grin cut Joe’s lips suddenly, the sort of grin that usually meant trouble, and left a warm feeling inside of David’s chest, soothing over the residual aches. 

Joe ran his tongue along his bottom lip, aware of David’s eyes on it. He slid the hand at his cheek down to cradle David’s jaw, moving the other at his hip under the fabric of his shirt so that it was on David’s bare skin, thumb stroking gently over his hip bone. “Tell me again,” he said against the soft skin of David’s throat, dragging his lips from collarbones to jaw.

“Tell you what?” David asked, already a little breathless and he hadn’t even gotten that kiss yet. He wondered if Joe had any idea what he did to him. Then he thought, yeah, Joe might have some idea, especially as he slid his knee in between David’s legs and pressed his thigh up against David’s cock. He wasn’t hard yet, but he figured that wouldn’t be a problem for much longer.

“ _Sag mir wie viel_ ,“ Joe said, scraping his teeth over David’s carotid before sucking a mark there.

A soft moan left his lips before he could stop it. “Joe, _soviel. Ich liebe dich so sehr. Bitte_...“ David tipped his head back a little and rocked his hips down onto Joe’s thigh. The hand Joe had around David’s hip tightened, and there was one more scrape of teeth, against his jaw this time, before Joe’s mouth covered his own. It was one of the dirtiest kisses David ever had, Joe’s tongue hot and wet in his mouth, brushing against his own. In a moment of boldness, David grabbed Joe’s shoulders and maneuvered them so Joe was the one with his back pressed to the counter. “I’ll show you, _liebling_ , let me show you.“

Joe’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and David took the opportunity to slip his tongue back inside. When Joe started to bite at his lower lip, and David thought maybe Joe would try and flip their positions again, he slid down to his knees and looked up at Joe through his lashes, in the way he knew got Joe going good. He reached to undo Joe’s pants button and fly, tugging his pants down around his ankles, pleased to note Joe was half hard already. He placed his mouth over Joe’s dick and sucked gently through his boxers.

Joe’s head dropped back and he let out a soft _‘fuck‘,_ threading his fingers through David’s hair. David replaced his mouth with his hand, cupping Joe through his boxers and squeezing gently before pulling those down too, freeing Joe’s now fully erect cock. He brushed his lips against the underside of Joe’s shaft from base to tip and then parted his lips and took the tip into his mouth. He sucked, pulling a few more curses from Joe, before sliding further along, running his tongue along the underside as he went.

Keeping one hand resting on the back of David’s head, he cupped David’s face with the other one, pressing his thumb gently into David’s cheek. He couldn’t have looked away if he tried, David’s eyes pinning him to the spot, blue barely visible in a thin ring around his lust blown pupils. “So good,“ he breathed, tightening the fingers in David’s hair and giving a small tug. David moaned around his cock which made him moan in turn. Taking a deep breath through his nose, David pushed all the way forward, swallowing around Joe’s cock as he went and taking his whole length in.

Between sucking, swallowing, and David making small motions with his tongue, Joe fell apart. There was no way he was going to last long – and when David brought up a hand and cupped his balls, he knew for sure he was a goner. “Shit, I’m so fucking close-“ He panted, giving David’s hair another short tug. David’s eyes never left Joe’s face – he knew Joe was close before he even said it, the way his thighs were tense, and the hand that was on his face was now gripping the edge of the counter white knuckled, and the way his brow furrowed and he bit his lower lip, flushed dark red from the kisses they’d traded.

He was gorgeous, and all David wanted, ever, for the rest of his life if Joe would have him. He thought maybe he would. It was like they were the only two people in the world, everything narrowed down to this moment, the scant space between them. David’s mind slipped to the surprise, to the little velvet jewelry box hiding away, the silver band engraved with intricate little designs that he knew would fit on Joe’s finger so well. He realized he had never been more sure of anything. This was exactly where he wanted to be, and the person he wanted to be with, for the rest of his life. 

The dig of Joe’s nails in his scalp brought him back to the present. David hummed around the cock in his mouth, pulling back to suck hard on the tip again, other hand stroking the base. Joe groaned, long and low, and David pushed forward to swallow around him one last time before Joe broke, cursing, “Fuck, David, David –“ and spilled down David’s throat. David swallowed once, twice, and then Joe’s softening cock slipped from his mouth as Joe went near boneless and slid down the counter and onto the floor in front of him, hands grabbing at him and trying to pull him closer.

“You are-“ he started, hands hot and all over David, sliding them under his shirt and then tugging the fabric off over his head. He caught David’s lips in a passionate kiss, unrelenting.

David huffed a laugh against Joe’s lips. He broke the kiss to ask, “What am I, _liebling_?” His last words were caught on a moan as Joe cupped his aching hard on through his pants. David pressed his lips to the corner of Joe’s, and then moved to his cheek, and his nose, and his forehead, dropping kisses all over his face. He grabbed at the bottom of Joe’s shirt and divested him of it so he could press their chests together, skin to skin. Joe huffed and started forward, pushing, maneuvering until David was splayed on his back on the kitchen floor and he was perched in the vee of his legs. The tile was cool against David’s skin but he hardly noticed it at all, feeling like he was burning up from the inside out.

“You’re insufferable, incorrigible,” Joe continued, leaning over David’s body to bite at his collarbones, sucking more marks into his pale skin.

“Those are big words,” David breathed, snaking a hand around the back of Joe’s neck to anchor him there, to stop him from moving, as if he would. “Don’t hurt yourself.” He used his other hand to squeeze Joe’s ass, unable to resist. Joe just groaned against him, sliding a hand up his abdomen until he caught a nipple between his fingers and rolled in retaliation. David’s back arched in response, pretty lips parting in pleasure.

“Shut up,” He said, even though he was the one who started talking in the first place. He shoved his hand down the front of David’s pants and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock. He gave a couple languid strokes before sliding his thumb over the tip, finding drops of precome already beading there. “How bad you want it, _schatz_? Hmm?”

All David could do was moan. He tried to rock his hips up into the touch, but Joe’s weight above him restricted him from moving too much. His cock was aching from the lack of attention, and Joe’s hand felt so good around him. Joe squeezed his cock tight and then let go, causing David to whine from the loss. 

“I’ve got you,” He murmured, shuffling to tug David’s pants down for better access. He decided on pulling them all the way off, and then settled himself back in between David’s open legs. He spit in his hand and returned it to David’s erection, draping himself back over David again. His forearm rested on the tile by David’s head, supporting some of his weight as he bumped the underside of David’s jaw with his nose before kissing him again. “You’re so gorgeous,” He said, starting to stroke David again, setting a surprisingly quick pace. “So fucking beautiful, and so good…”

“Yes,” David gasped, his senses overwhelmed. Joe was all over him, all around him, his voice in his ear, hand on his cock, and it was almost too much. “For you, it’s for you.”

Joe hummed into his neck before nipping over a mark he’d already made. The sharp sting made David cry out. “Mine,” he said slowly, possessively, and the tone of Joe’s voice went straight to his dick. _Holy shit,_ was all David could think. Joe twisted his wrist, pressing his thumb underneath the head before dragging it back over the slit again and jerking faster, harder, just on this side of painful the way David liked it. Joe wanted to take David apart, wanted to show him, _this is how you make me feel, all the time_.

“Yours, yours, ah fuck Joe, yes, _bitte, bitte,”_ David moaned out. He could hardly keep his thoughts straight, he felt like he was coming undone, unravelled. He was so close. He used to be embarrassed at how much just sucking Joe off turned him on, but remembering the way Joe looked at him, wide eyed, and then fucked him, right over the arm of the couch, after that one time he came untouched in his pants while blowing Joe, generally vanished any insecurities he had.

Joe shifted his weight, moving the arm that was supporting himself on the ground so he could brush the fringe and sweat out of David’s eyes, cradling the top of his head. “Go on, _Schatz,_ show me. Come on.”

David squeezed his eyes shut, gasping, and lasted only three more strokes before spilling onto his stomach and over Joe’s hand. Joe stroked the top of David’s head, murmuring softly, grazing his lips over David’s cheeks, his forehead, his chin. He wasn’t ready to open his eyes yet, so he didn’t, trusting Joe to look after him. After a few moments, David registered the feeling of soft fabric against his stomach, wiping away the come; one of their shirts, probably. He secretly hoped it was Joe’s and not his.

“Are you going to lay on the floor forever? My knees hurt,” Joe complained after a little while longer, still kneeling between David’s legs, but his hands were gentle as they splayed across David’s ribs.

“You never hear me complaining about my poor knees,” David grumbled, cracking an eye open and peering up at Joe. He had an insufferable smirk painted across his lips, but his gaze was indescribably fond as he looked down at David.

“Well, the thing about _your_ knees, Web, is that you’re used to spending an awful lot of time –“

David sat up and gave Joe’s shoulders a playful shove, cutting him off. “Maybe if you spent more time on my level, then…” he teased, taking Joe’s offered hands as they both stood up. He caught the edge of Joe’s grin as he turned away to start down the hall towards their bedroom, but David caught something else on Joe’s face, too, that wasn’t quite fitting with his smile. It tightened his eyes, and made David pause.

“Hey,” He said, softer, catching his hand again. Joe hesitated only a moment before squaring his shoulders and turning around to face him, already seeming to know David’s intentions. David wished he didn’t feel the need to be defensive. He just couldn’t bear the thought of Joe _still_ not getting it. How could he still not understand?

“This a conversation you really want to have while we’re standing in the kitchen, at… near three in the morning with no pants on?”

“You pretty much never have pants on when I’m around,” David dismissed him. “In fact, you don’t have _any_ clothes on. Except your socks,” David noted with a snicker. He wasn’t sure how he missed those. His eyes darted down to the floor beside him, though, where their clothes were discarded in the heat of the moment. “We’ve stayed up this long, anyways. What’s a little while longer? Will these make you feel better, at least?” David asked, leaning down to grab and offer Joe his boxers. 

Joe pressed his lips into a thin line, but didn’t let go of his hand, and didn’t turn away, which David counted as a win. “I’ll be quick. We can talk more in the morning. Just…” _Just let me say this._ He wasn’t sure if they even _would_ talk in the morning, and he was afraid he may not have the strength nor opportunity to bring it up again. He felt driven by a sudden clarity, and courage, and he knew he needed Joe to know, and he knew it needed to be now. This wasn’t the time for assumptions, no room for misunderstandings.

Joe nodded, almost imperceptibly. He grabbed his boxers from David’s hands, and David let out a soft sigh in relief. 

David squeezed Joe’s hand before dropping it. “Don’t move. I mean it. I’ll be right back.” 

“What? Webster-” Joe’s face twisted in confusion, but David tuned him out. He grabbed his own briefs and then moved as quickly as he could to the closet by the door. Upon opening it, he was struck by the thought, _I’m really doing this._ And then, _I_ can _do this._ He reached inside his bookbag, which was laying neatly in the corner, and felt around until his fingers closed around the ring box. He became aware of his heartbeat thundering in his chest. He walked back to the kitchen, taking conscious, steady breaths. 

Joe had moved to lean back against the counter in his short absence, watching David with eyebrows raised. His hair was mussed, some strands in the front falling over his brow, and his eyes were still a little red rimmed from crying, but he looked - well. He was beautiful. He was the man David wanted to spend the rest of his life with. His eyes dropped to the arm David hid behind his back, and then back up to David’s face, questioning. 

David stepped closer, bringing his free hand up and resting it on Joe’s chest, over his heart. He took a deep breath to steady himself, the words he wanted to say already half formed at the back of his mind. “I meant what I said earlier. Every word. Okay? I love you. There is… there’s no one else that could ever come close to you. There’s no one else I could ever want. You’re… you’re it, Joe. I planned that dinner for us, because there was something I wanted to talk about, but it wasn’t… It wasn’t what you thought. And I’m sorry if I ever gave you reason to think that. But the real reason is, I had something to ask you. I have something to ask you now, if you’d let me.”

Joe’s eyes dropped back down to David’s hidden arm. His throat bobbed, and he wet his lips, before asking, “What?” 

David thought he probably knew what. Cards on the table, though. It needed to be said. “I’m all yours, if you’ll have me. What I’m getting at is… well… would you marry me?” He held the box between them and flipped it open to reveal the ring, and waited, quiet, hoping. He felt, suddenly, like he was on a precipice, the edge of no return – there was no taking it back. It was up to Joe, now, to either push him over or pull him back.

“Look at me,” Joe commanded, his hand resting over David’s on his chest, giving it a gentle squeeze. David didn’t realize he had closed his eyes. He took a slow, steadying breath, and then opened them, slowly, almost afraid at what he would see on Joe’s face. It was a strange mix of guarded and open - David could tell Joe was trying to make an effort to let him see what he was feeling, but it was hard to read the emotions he allowed to be displayed. His eyes were glued on the ring. He opened his mouth, and then closed it again, throat working. “Let’s go to bed,” Joe said after a few moments, quietly, and David squeezed his eyes shut again, biting hard into his bottom lip. Ah. _Rejection._ He felt his throat burn, and all he could think was _I will not cry I will not cry I will not cry._ He thought… the hand holding the ring snapped the box shut and dropped to his side. 

“Hey.” Joe cupped his face, stepping closer, so that they were pressed together from knees to chest. He moved his other hand to curl around David’s dropped wrist, thumb stroking over the pulse point. “I mean let’s go to bed, together. Tonight. And tomorrow night. And the night after that. And _every_ night. You and me. As long as you want.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ The relief that zapped through David was overwhelming.

“Yeah, dumbass, try to keep up,” Joe said, leaning in. He pressed his top lip to David’s bottom lip, in a sweet mimic of a kiss, and then shifted so their lips slotted together neatly. It was the gentlest kiss David ever got from Joe. It was almost _chaste,_ and he loved it. 

“You couldn’t have just said yes like a normal person? I was having a heart attack, asshole. I thought...” 

“When have I ever said anything a normal person would say?” Joe smirked, pressing a kiss onto David’s cheek. “And when have I ever been able to say no to you, anyways?” He added, softer, pressing their foreheads together. 

“You want a list?” David said, but there was no heat behind it. For the most part, it was true. Joe never denied him much, always indulged and went along with whatever he wanted, within reason. Joe cupped his face in both hands and tipped his head back slightly, pulling away so they could see each other clearly, looking right into his eyes. 

“Yes,” he said, simply but surely, knowing that David knew he wasn’t talking about the list. He lingered for a moment like that, committing the soft look of adoration and plain love on David’s face to memory, noting the way David looked steadily right back and likely saw the same look reflected on his own face, before pulling him close again. “I love you.” 

David bumped their foreheads together again gently, and then a yawn caught him out of nowhere, and Joe chuckled. “Come on. Are we allowed to go to bed now, princess?”

“Say it one more time, and I’ll think about it.” 

“It,” Joe said to be contrary, but he was smiling. David pinched his side in retaliation. Joe ran his hands down David’s back, and then squeezed his hips before grabbing David’s hand that held the ring box. He flipped the top open again, running a gentle thumb over the band, before pulling it out. He offered it to David, along with his left hand. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

David grinned back at Joe. At his _fiancé_. He felt high on emotion. He was _happy._ He was beyond happy. The way Joe looked back at him, eyes bright, as he slid the ring onto Joe's finger told him that he wasn’t the only one.

"I have one request, though," Joe said lightly as he began to walk backwards towards their bedroom, leading David along with him, not breaking eye contact or hand hold.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" He felt on top of the world. He thought he'd give Joe anything he asked in that moment. _Anything._

Joe paused in the doorway of their room, a funny gleam in his eye. "I get to be the one to tell your parents. We can invite them for dinner. They're going to _love_ this news."

David groaned. Trust Joe to ruin the moment. He couldn't help but chuckle, though, because they would have to break the news eventually... and he could picture exactly how well that would go. Letting Joe do it... that was sure an image. He'd be lying if it didn't bring up some form of unrestrained glee at the prospect.

He shoved Joe fully into their room and wrestled him into to their bed. "Shut up, Joe." He didn't want the other man to get the impression that he was seriously thinking about it, if not for anything but entertainment value. 

"No, really, I mean, I can just picture their faces now. Like sucking on lemons. It'll be beautiful. And just _wait_ until they find out you proposed in your underwear at 3 in the morning in our kitchen right after you sucked me real good, like -"

"Joe!" David cried, grabbing a pillow and shoving it over Joe's face. Leave it to Joe to have him thinking about smothering him right after he'd asked to spend the rest of their lives together.

Joe merely cackled under the assault, wriggling to dislodge David from on top of him. He did so successfully, tossing the pillow aside and pinning David down in a mirror of the position they'd held seconds before. "Come on, you were the picture of a perfect gentleman, Web. So romantic, so charming," Joe teased from above him. "They'll be glad to know they raised you right."

"I want a divorce," was David's immediate reply, but he couldn't help the smile that accompanied his words.

"We're not actually married yet, genius. No can do."

"No," David started, suddenly feeling unbearably fond. He felt so full of love he wondered how he wasn't overflowing with it. "But we're going to be."

The look on Joe's face changed from mischievous to something softer, akin to wonder. He brought one hand up to brush some hair out of David's eyes before resting it on the side of his face, thumb stroking lightly over his cheekbone. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess we are."

"No take backs," David said suddenly, biting his lip. He was full, and happy, and in love, but the insecurity still slipped, however brief, through his mind.

"Nah," Joe murmured. He leaned down to kiss David, then, and the insecurity was promptly squashed under the press of Joe's lips, the slip of his tongue. Far too soon in David's opinion, Joe broke the kiss and rolled off of him. He pulled the covers out from underneath them and then laid himself out on his back beside David, before tugging him into his side. David's head came to rest on Joe's shoulder, settling into his hold, and Joe pressed a kiss onto the top of David's head as he pulled the blanket up to cover them. "Wouldn't dream of it. You're stuck with me, _Schatz._ Sorry to say."

"I'm not sorry," David said. "I'm glad." He draped an arm over Joe's waist and sighed in contentment, closing his eyes. He loved Joe, and Joe loved him. That was all he needed to know, all that really mattered; the rest was just white noise, as far as he was concerned.

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS  
> Liebling = Darling  
> Dein ist mein ganzes Herz = My heart is all yours. (As according to google translate. David would say shit like that. Lieb’s going to razz him about it later but also he’s going to lie awake at night with his hands over his face like a blushing maiden thinking about it for the rest of forever.)  
> Ich liebe dich am leidenschaftlichsten = I love you most ardently. (AKA Joe is a nerd who secretly DOES listen to all of David’s ranting about the ’pretentious’ books he reads. The literal google translation is “I love you most passionately”. Is there not a word for ardent in German? I don’t know. Shame if there isn’t. It’s the spirit that counts, though.)  
> Sag mir wie viel = Tell me how much.  
> Soviel. Ich liebe dich so sehr. Bitte...= So much. I love you so much. Please...  
> Schatz = Sweetheart  
> Bitte = Please


End file.
